Cowboy to the Rescue

Chapter Two

“What do you put into these beans to make them taste so good?” Taking a ladylike bite, Susanna leaned back against the wagon wheel to savor it. Nate had provided a stool for her so she didn’t have to sit on the ground, making this meal all the more pleasant. With Daddy fed and taken care of, she could finally eat her own supper—beans again, but wonderfully mouthwatering.

“Now, don’t go asking about my cooking, young lady.” Seated on the ground, his back against a bedroll, his long legs stretched out in front of him, Nate spoke in that teasing tone so much like her brother’s. “Angela—she’s our cook and housekeeper—would tan my hide if I gave away any of her secrets.”

“Humph.” Susanna sniffed with a bit of artificial pique. “As if I didn’t have a few secret recipes of my own.” Not many, but enough to impress folks back home, especially at church dinners. Like Nate’s family, hers had employed a housekeeper who’d taught her some basic cooking skills, which had come in handy on this journey. But she wouldn’t mention that they’d had servants, for that would reveal their financial status.

“I’m sure you have some very fine recipes.” He chuckled and shoveled in another bite.

On the other side of the campfire, Zack whittled on a stick, his empty plate beside him. He stretched and yawned, then took himself off toward the horses grazing nearby.

Susanna busied herself with finishing her meal before sitting back to relax. After a long, hot afternoon of riding into the sun, they sat facing the trail they had just traversed, taking refuge on the shady side of the prairie schooner. Now as the sun went down behind them, it cast a deep purple hue over the eastern range bordering the San Luis Valley.

“What a wondrous sight,” she murmured. “We have our beautiful Appalachian Mountains back home, but these are so much higher. They’re truly awe-inspiring.”

“They are indeed.” Nate pointed his fork toward the tallest peak, which still wore a snowy white crown from last winter’s snow. “That’s Mount Blanca, and the whole eastern range is called Sangre de Cristo.”

“Sangre de Cristo. That’s Spanish, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Just about every place around here has a Spanish name because Spaniards were the first Europeans to settle here.” Nate’s soft gaze toward the east bespoke a love of the scene. “Sangre de Cristo means blood of Christ, an allusion to that deep, rich color.”

“Ah.” Agreeable warmth filled her. She’d never dreamed she could enjoy the companionship of a Yankee man this way. But Nate hadn’t said or done anything that was even slightly improper. “Those Spaniards were people of faith.”

“At least the old padre who named these mountains was.” He shot a curious glance her way. “And you?”

His question confused her for only a moment. “Oh, yes. My mama always said that after all the South suffered in the war, she didn’t know how anyone could go on without the Lord.” She instantly regretted bringing up the devastating conflict that had shaped her entire life. But Nate didn’t bat an eye, so she hurried on. “I made my decision to follow Christ when I was nine years old, and He’s never let me down.” His understanding smile invited her to echo his question. “And you?”

“Yep, around that same age. Ten, actually.” He stared off as if remembering. “When the Colonel came home safely from the war in answer to our prayers.” A frown briefly creased his brow, though Susanna could not guess why. “Of course, lots of fathers came home badly wounded or didn’t come home at all. But at ten, I was only concerned about my own. As time went on, praying and trusting God became as natural as breathing.” He grunted out a laugh. “Now, don’t get the idea I see myself as somebody special. Just the opposite, because I need the Lord’s help all the time to do the right thing.”

Susanna’s heart warmed at his guileless confession. “I believe we all do, Nate.” She’d watched Daddy’s faith dip after Mama’s death, but as they headed west, he seemed to grow more encouraged. Although she would never understand his urge to go digging for silver, anything that gave him a reason to live had her approval, even if she had to be dragged along on his quest. Even if she had to wait to see her own dreams come true. She supposed parents were always a mystery to their children. “Do you always call your father the Colonel?”

“Yep, just like everybody else.” Nate grimaced. “If you ever meet him, you’ll understand why.”

“He’s that intimidating?” Susanna knew many former military officers, Daddy included, but they were Southern gentlemen and never made a lady feel uncomfortable. Maybe Northern officers didn’t have the same good manners. They’d certainly treated the South badly.

“You could say that.” Nate stood and took her empty plate, setting both of them in a metal pail.

“I’ll wash the dishes.” She rose and brushed dust and twigs from her skirt.

“Nope.” Nate held up a hand. “You go see to your father. Maybe you can light a lamp and read to him. I’m sure he’d like to have his mind on something other than...” He shrugged, a charming gesture that conveyed sympathy and understanding.

“Thank you. I’ll do that.” Tears stung Susanna’s eyes, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “We’ve been reading Charles Dickens’s Bleak House on our journey. Fortunately, those thieves weren’t interested in stealing books. I’m sure hearing another chapter will take his mind off his pain.” How kind and thoughtful this man was. Not at all like the Yankee carpetbaggers she’d learned to distrust and avoid. But she quickly shut the door on the warm feelings trying to invade her heart. Mama would turn over in her grave if Susanna even considered finding a Yankee attractive.

“Bleak House. That’s a good book. My folks sent me back east for a year at Harvard, and that’s where I first read Dickens’s works.”

So Nate had an education and liked to read good books. Now she had something to discuss with him, something that would keep her thoughts off how handsome he was.

She climbed into the back of the wagon to find Daddy staring at her with a slight grin on his dear bruised face. Heat flooded her cheeks. Had he been listening through the canvas to her conversation with Nate? She searched her memory for anything that might have sounded improper but came up with a clear conscience. Why had she worried? Probably because Nate was a Yankee, and Daddy had always said nothing good ever came out of any Yankee. But here he lay with more mischief than censure in his eyes.

“What are you up to?” She would get the upper hand before he could say anything.

He chuckled, then coughed, then grimaced and groaned.

“Oh, dearest, don’t laugh.” She knelt beside him. “Zack said you probably have some broken ribs and should try not to laugh or cough.” She eased him up and gave him a drink of water from a canteen. “Would you like for me to read to you?”

He gave a brief nod. “First take this.” He handed her a wrinkled, sealed envelope from the broken remnants of their traveling desk.

“What on earth?” She accepted it only to discover its unusual weight. “Is this one of our gold pieces in here?”

“Shh.” He gently clasped her free hand and whispered, “Tomorrow when we reach that hotel, slip this to the manager—before Northam speaks to him, if you can. And don’t say anything about it to these cowboys.”

“What?” Her mind could conceive of no sensible reason for Daddy’s request.

“Shh!” He glanced toward the back opening of the wagon. “Just do as I ask, daughter.” He patted her hand. “Will you?”

Susanna swallowed hard. In all her born days, she’d never seen Daddy do anything dishonest. Back home in the dry-goods store, he’d always taken a loss rather than offend a customer. Surely, she could obey this simple order. “Yes, sir, I will.”

But an odd foreboding crept into her heart and kept her awake far into the night.

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Nate and Zack hitched up the teams and prepared to head out. As he had several times a day since leaving Pueblo, Nate checked the cargo in his wagon, lifting a silent prayer that they could get it home without any difficulty. So far they’d managed, but they still had the river to cross.

He’d just replaced the canvas cover when Susanna approached and stared up at him with those pretty blue eyes. Without her coat, she appeared much thinner, the mark of most people who had crossed the prairies. This little gal could use a regular diet of steak and potatoes so she could put some meat on those bones.

“Would it be rude of me to ask what’s in your wagon?”

He couldn’t imagine thinking she was rude. Nor could he imagine denying her any request. He loosened the ropes but paused before lifting the canvas covering. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Pretty much.”

Her impish grin tickled his insides and made him chuckle. Whoa. He really needed to get a handle on these wayward feelings. “Well...” He drawled out the word. “I guess I’ll trust you, anyway.” He pulled the canvas back a few feet to reveal one of the four crates. “It’s a gift for my mother. My folks will be celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and the whole community plans to take part in the festivities.” Tucked around and between the crates were supplies that he’d bought to divert Mother’s attention from the real purpose of his trip. “If the Colonel has any say about it, it’ll be the biggest party ever given in the San Luis Valley.”

Instead of being impressed, Susanna pursed her plump lips into a silly pout. “You’re giving her wooden boxes?” She slid him a sideways glance. “Now, you know I’m going to ask what’s inside them.”

He laughed out loud. “All right, then, Miss Curious.” For the first time in his life, he understood how Samson must have felt when Delilah kept wheedling him to learn the secret of his strength. “It’s china. The Colonel had it imported from England.” Imagining the joy Mother would feel when she received it come July, Nate felt a kick of anticipation. “Wedgwood,” he added for effect, though why he was trying to impress Susanna, he didn’t know. “Of course, Mother thinks her present is the new addition to the house.”

The wonderment brightening her pretty face gave him the answer, for he had a hard time tamping down the strong urge to give her whatever she wanted. What was wrong with him? They’d just met yesterday. He didn’t really know all that much about her. All he knew was that no other lady had ever affected him this way. Certainly not Maisie, who was more like a sister than someone he wanted to court. Not that he wanted to court Susanna, either. Until he settled some serious matters within himself, he couldn’t in good conscience court anyone.

“Wedgwood china all the way from England.” She breathed out the words in an awe-filled tone, and her blue eyes rounded with unabashed curiosity. “How on earth did you get it here?”

“Let me see, now. Across an ocean.” He held up his hands and ticked off on his fingers the legs of the journey this valuable cargo had taken. “Around through the Gulf, up the Mississippi, then the Missouri River to Westport, Kansas. A freight company hauled it over the Santa Fe Trail to Pueblo. They were accompanied by replacement soldiers headed to New Mexico, courtesy of the Colonel’s old army friends, so they arrived without incident.” He paused to take a breath and to consider whether or not to tell her everything. She probably didn’t need to know that the freight drivers had unloaded the cargo at the fort and had taken off for the gold fields outside Denver. Their desertion had meant the Colonel had to send Nate to bring the china home. It also heightened his father’s already deep hatred of prospectors.

“And you met them in Pueblo.” Susanna grasped the important parts of the story, meaning he didn’t have to include the unpleasant side. “Well, Mr. Nate Northam, it remains to be seen whether your Colonel has that intimidating presence we spoke of last night, but I already like him for going to so much trouble to get his wife such a fine gift as this.” Her approving smile further melted Nate’s insides. “Tell me, how do you keep it from breaking?” She raised herself up on tiptoes and peered down into the wagon bed. “I see. The boxes are suspended on rope webbing.” She reached in and pressed down on the ropes, testing their flexibility. “That must keep them from bouncing around as the wagon goes over bumps.” She gave him another admiring glance. “Why, Mr. Northam, how extremely clever of you.”

Nate lifted his chin and returned a playful smirk. “Clever indeed, if I do say so myself.” Even the Colonel had been impressed by his invention. In truth, he’d given a nod and a grunt, the nearest thing to praise he ever dished out to Nate.

“No more compliments for you.” She waggled a finger at him and clucked like a scolding schoolmarm. “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

“Ouch. Guess I’d better repent of my pride.” He shuddered comically. “We aren’t safely home yet, and I sure don’t want any destruction to fall on Mother’s china.”

Sobering, she touched his hand, sending a pleasant spark up his arm. “I believe God cares about these things, Nate, so I’ll be praying all goes well for the rest of your journey.”

That promise refocused his emotions, and he placed a hand over hers. “I’ll pray the same for you, Susanna. Seems to me you’ve already had enough things go wrong.”

Her eyes brightened with moisture, and his heart warmed. He was doing the right thing to help her and her father, of that he felt certain.

Within two hours, they met their first test of those prayers when they reached the banks of the Rio Grande. Alamosa lay just across the shallow but rapidly flowing river, causing a mixture of emotions in Nate’s chest. Soon he would have to say goodbye to Susanna and her father, but first they all had to get across the wide waters. Both would be challenges.

“I don’t know, boss.” Zack gripped the reins to keep the restless horses from bolting into the water or shying away from it. “Looks like we might need help.”

“Maybe.” Standing beside the prairie schooner, Nate surveyed the scene. “Let’s use all four horses to get this wagon across. Then we can bring them back across for mine.” He didn’t like the idea of leaving the china unguarded, even though the other wagon would be in view at all times. But they had no choice.

“Can I help with anything?” Susanna poked her head through the front opening of the schooner and peered over Zack’s shoulder at Nate. Her gaze dropped to the river, and her eyes widened. “Oh, my. That must be the Rio Grande River. Not quite the Mississippi, but no easy crossing, I’d guess.”

“No, ma’am. It’s a good forty feet across these days because of runoff from the mountains.” Nate hated to think of the punishing ride her father would have if they took the usual mode of getting to the other side. “How is Mr. Anders doing?”

She disappeared behind the canvas for a moment, then reappeared. “He says not to mind him, just do whatever you have to do.” Her usually smooth forehead was creased with concern.

“What do you think?” He could at least give her a chance to decide.

“Do whatever you must.” A steely look narrowed her eyes and tightened her jaw. “That’s what our wagon master said more than once on the trip out here.”

Her courage continued to impress him. Leaving her behind would be all the more difficult in a couple of hours. Maybe he could make it easier with more teasing. “By the way, it’s just Rio Grande.”

“I beg your pardon?” Her cute little grin appeared.

“You said Rio Grande River. That’s like saying Big River River.”

She laughed in her musical, ladylike way. “Spanish, of course.”

“Yep.” He could see her mood growing lighter. “And if you really want to get it right, it’s Rio Grande del Norte.” He used his best Spanish inflections, as Angela had taught him. “Great River of the North.”

Susanna put the back of one hand against her forehead in a dramatic pose. “Mercy, mercy. How can little ol’ me evah learn all of that?” Her sweet drawl oozed over him like warm honey.

“Poor little thing.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Zack coughed softly, shaking Nate loose from his foolish teasing.

“All right. Let’s get this done.”

He drove his wagon into the shade of some cottonwoods, then unhitched the two horses and joined them to the team in front of the schooner. Like old friends glad to be together again, the horses nickered and tossed their heads as much as their harnesses permitted.

Nate considered carrying Mr. Anders across the water on foot, but it wouldn’t do for the old man to get wet, even in this hot weather. Instead, he instructed Susanna to cushion her father as best she could, then brace him for the crossing.

Taking the reins himself, with Zack beside him to help as needed, he circled the schooner around and away from the water to give the horses a running start. Then he slapped the reins and cried, “Hyah!”

His team didn’t let him down. They gamely leaped into their harnesses, built up speed and plunged into the water, their momentum more than matching the current as they angled downriver to conquer the forty-foot expanse. The water covered the wagon’s axles but did not breach the box. With a final lunge, the lead horses emerged from the river, then the second pair, at last pulling the wagon onto dry, solid ground. All four animals shook their manes and whinnied almost as if they’d enjoyed the bath.

But Nate had felt every rock and tree branch submerged under the water’s surface; he’d heard every clatter of the contents of the prairie schooner, along with a yip or two from Susanna and her father. Now to go back and get his wagon. The prospect made his chest tighten with trepidation.

He’d conveyed Mother’s china this far without mishap, but the Great River of the North might just put an end to that. He found it impossible to please the Colonel with his good, hard work, so there was no telling what his father would do if Nate let the china get damaged.

Chapter Three

Susanna’s pulse finally slowed enough for her to step down from the prairie schooner. Before climbing out, she checked on Daddy, only to find he’d fared better on the crossing than she had because of the thick padding Nate had put in his bed. Shaking out her wobbly legs, she approached Nate and Zack, who were unhitching the horses so they could go back across for Nate’s wagon.

A sudden protectiveness for Mrs. Northam’s anniversary gift stirred within her. No matter that she’d never met the lady. If she’d reared this kind gentleman, Susanna already liked her.

“Surely, you don’t plan to bring the china across the river that same way.” She posted her fists at her waist for emphasis. “Every plate and cup and bowl will be broken.” Maybe there was even some crystal glassware in the crates, and that most certainly would not survive no matter how well it was nestled into the straw packing.

Nate shoved his hat back, revealing the tan line on his forehead and giving him a charmingly boyish appearance. He looked down his straight, narrow nose at her. “I suppose you think I haven’t thought of that.” His tone held a hint of annoyance, but his green eyes held their usual teasing glint. “You have a better idea, Miss Smarty?”

“Humph.” She crossed her arms and tapped one foot on the ground. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Sliding her gaze northward along the river, she pointed toward the raised railroad trestle. “Have you ever heard of a little thing called a train?” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine why you didn’t just have the crates shipped that way over the mountains.”

Now serious, Nate frowned. “The Colonel didn’t trust them to show due care, especially over La Veta Pass. Sometimes trains jump track or run into fallen trees.” His tone suggested he didn’t quite agree with his father. “He didn’t want to risk it.”